


I Don't Even Know Your Name

by superwhowolflocked



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, I'm Bad At Tagging, Inspired by Music, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 18:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16372583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superwhowolflocked/pseuds/superwhowolflocked
Summary: Excerpt:The first thing that drew him in was how the man was dressed. The theme of the wedding was fairly casual, but this man was dressed to the nines, easily out doing most of the people in the room. His outfit was quickly forgotten, though, when Stiles was caught by the most striking green eyes he had ever seen. Or were they blue? Both. They were definitely both. They were staring directly at him, now, examining him carefully, anddamnthey were hypnotizing.





	I Don't Even Know Your Name

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the song "I Don't Even Know Your Name" by Shawn Mendes. If you would like to listen to it, you can find my favorite versions of it by copying the links below.
> 
> (Original) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=55GnWyJf1Gw  
> (Live) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilf1ZKvxQfA
> 
> While this fic is based off of this song, it is not a song fic. No italicized lyrics will be found anywhere!  
> Big thanks to my sister for beta reading this for me! (but, we are both human so there are probably still several mistakes. If so, I'm sorry. Just let me know in the comments and I'll edit them!)
> 
> That's all for now!

“We’re brothers!” Scott shouted as he tackled Stiles from behind, nearly knocking the glass of champagne from his hands. 

“Scott, we’ve been brothers since the second grade,” Stiles laughed.

“I know. But our parents are married, now! It’s official!” he declared excitedly.

Stiles shook his head in amusement, but didn’t argue. “Are you ready to give your toast?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“I guess,” Scott grumbled.

“It’s your mom’s wedding day, Scotty, you _have_ to give a toast.” 

“I know, I know,” Scott groaned, having heard Stiles’ speech half a dozen times already. “But you know how I feel about public speaking…” 

“Well, you better gather up some courage, and quick, because it’s time,” Stiles announced, making his way to the small stage at the front of the room. He raised his glass and the room fell silent.

Stiles looked around, marveling at all the love surrounding his father and his new stepmom on their special day. He recognized most of the people, some family, and many friends from the police station and hospital, but there were a few unfamiliar faces amongst the crowd. Suddenly, Stiles’ attention narrowed in on a man he’d never seen before. He wasn’t doing anything to get himself noticed, just leaning against the wall with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass of champagne. That didn’t matter, though, because he’d instantly captured Stiles’ eye.

The first thing that drew him in was how the man was dressed. The theme of the wedding was fairly casual, but this man was dressed to the nines, easily out doing most of the people in the room. His outfit was quickly forgotten, though, when Stiles was caught by the most striking green eyes he had ever seen. Or were they blue? Both. They were definitely both. They were staring directly at him, now, examining him carefully, and _damn_ they were hypnotizing. All he wanted to do was gaze into those eyes for the rest of the night. Maybe, even the rest of forever. He was completely prepared to do just that, when the guy smiled. It was confident, but humble, and it brightened his entire face, effectively throwing Stiles into yet another daze. Was it too soon to make it his life’s goal to continue compelling this man to smile like that until the end of his days? Probably, but it was too late. 

Doing his best to draw his attention back to the task at hand, Stiles began his toast. Everyone laughed and “awed” at the proper times, but the only reactions Stiles noticed were that of the dark-haired beauty with the perfect beard, kaleidoscope eyes, and a smile to kill for. The man slowly made his way closer to Stiles, and with every step, Stiles felt his heart beat spike. He tried to do anything to shift his focus from those eyes and that now predatory smile . He quickly realized that was a mistake as he began noticing the man’s physique. Broad shoulders, accentuated by a perfectlying fitted blazer. Large arms… _Nope_! He snapped his eyes forward, willing his heart to stop racing. 

He sped through the remainder of his toast, wishing his dad and Melissa all the happy years to come, and hastily handed the mic over to Scott. He looked down from the stage but the man was being pulled through the crowd of people and out the door. He was gone and Stiles felt a pang in his chest. Had it been any other time or place, he would have called out and chased after him, but this was the night of his fathers wedding, he wasn’t about to make a scene. 

He regretted not making a scene.

~*ooO0Ooo*~

Stiles stood in the chilly autumn air, waiting for the crosswalk light to change. He pulled his flannel tightly around his body and held his hot coffee closer to his chest, hoping the thin line of steam escaping through the drink spout would help warm his face. He was just starting to grow impatient when something across the street gained his attention. Or rather, someone. Dark hair with a beard to match, he was the right height, and build. He was looking down at his phone as he passed, but Stiles was almost certain it was the guy he had seen at his father’s wedding reception. Frantically, he looked between the stop light, and the annoying red hand telling him to stay put, and with every passing second, the man was getting farther away. 

Without looking, Stiles dashed across the street and was narrowly missed by two cars speeding by. They honked angrily at him, and one guy flipped him off, but it all went completely unnoticed as he sprinted down the sidewalk and after the stranger. He reached him in no time, and without giving it too much thought, he tapped the man on the shoulder. From the moment his hand connected with the black wool of the man’s coat to the time it took for him to turn around, couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but to Stiles, it felt like an eternity. He was anxiously holding his breath and he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

When the stranger’s eyes met his own, time instantly sped back to normal, and a weight came crashing down over Stiles.

“Sorry,” he murmured, “I thought you were someone else.” He quickly turned away, not giving the guy a chance to respond and headed for the police station.

He’d be lying if he said this was the first time something like this had happened in the month since that night, but he couldn’t help it. Everywhere he looked, he saw the man’s face and he couldn’t stop thinking about his smile and how it had punched a hole right through his heart. It killed him to know the guy would never know the immediate effect he had had on him. And now he was gone, and Stiles felt like he was going mad.

Dramatically, he plopped himself in the chair in front of his father’s desk.

“What do you want?” the sheriff asked without looking up from his case file. 

“A complete list of everyone who attended your wedding reception paired with their photo, would be helpful,” Stiles mumbled dejectedly. 

“Stiles, are you seriously still on this? It’s been weeks, and you know nothing about this guy. Why are you so fixated on him?” 

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed in a huff. “We just had this connection, and I have this nagging feeling that _won’t go away_ ,” he stressed with a punch. 

“Well, you’ve already been through the guest list twice and didn’t find him. So, all I can tell you is he must have been somebody’s plus one.” 

“Has Melissa picked up the wedding photo’s yet?” 

“I think she said something about doing that today, actually,” the sheriff confirmed.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” Stiles exclaimed, scrambling out of his chair and toward the door. 

“Good luck,” Noah called in amusement, but his son was already half way out of the station.

~*ooO0Ooo*~

“Ugh!” Stiles groaned, tossing the pictures down on the table in front of him. “These are useless!” he complained.

“I don’t know, I think this is a rather good one of you and your dad,” Melissa mused. 

“No, I didn’t mean… The pictures are great. They turned out beautifully, and you look stunning in all of them,” Stiles hastily affirmed, making Melissa laugh. 

“I know what you meant, sweetheart, but don’t give up. We haven’t gone through them all, yet.” 

“Wait,” Stiles said, picking up a picture of his dad posing with a couple. “Who is this?” he asked, pointing to the woman.

“Stiles, I know you live in your own world, but do you honestly not know who that is?” Stiles shook his head, but he didn’t look away from the picture. Something about the woman was hauntingly familiar. “That’s Talia Hale. She and her husband are the town’s largest benefactors. They donated the money to open the new wing at the hospital. They also donate a large amount to the police station every year. Your dad and I have worked really close with them for years.” 

“I mean, I’ve always heard you guys talking about them, and sure, I’ve heard their names around town, but I’ve never actually met them, and their pictures are never in the paper or anything.” 

“They’re pretty private people,” Melissa shrugged. “We were honestly surprised to see them and their family at the reception.” 

“Family?” Stiles not so subtly prodded. 

“Yeah, they have three kids. Their youngest daughter is about your age, and they have a son a few years older than you and their oldest daughter just turned thirty.” Stiles had stopped listening after Melissa said they had a son. It was so obvious, now, looking down at the picture. He looked just like them. But it was Talia’s smile that confirmed it for him. It was the same smile he had seen on the man at the reception. The one that had been haunting him for the last month.

“Do they live here in town?” 

“Why?” 

“Just… I need to know, okay?” Melissa waited, crossing her arm and giving him her most intimidating mom look. “Because I need to see their son,” he confessed. 

“Stiles, you can’t just show up at their house and start asking about their son. You don’t even know if it’s him,” Melissa argued.

“It’s him. I'm sure of it. Please, Melissa,” Stiles begged. “I need to know. I’m never going to stop thinking about him, searching for him, until I find him. I actually ran across a busy intersection because I thought I saw him,” he admitted. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve embarrassed myself over the last month chasing down strangers only to realize I was mistaken?”

“You’re really hung up on this guy, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Stiles exclaimed. “I know absolutely nothing about him, not even his name, and yet, I find myself looking for him everywhere, and no matter how ridiculous I feel, I can’t seem to stop. I do it subconsciously. And I have this yearning to just… to just hold him in my arms and never let go. I know it’s ludicrous to believe, but I swear, we had an instant connection, and I… I’ll never know if my instincts were right until I find him.” 

“Alright…” Melissa agreed.

“What?” Stiles said, snapping his head up to look at his stepmom in wonderment. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Call me crazy, but if you really feel this strongly about him… I guess I’m just a romantic,” she shrugged. “Talia and her husband are out of town a lot. Their kids still live at home so the place doesn’t sit empty. They live in that big manor home out onin the preserve.” 

Stiles leapt up and planted a big kiss on Melissa’s cheek. “You’re the best stepmom a guy could ask for!” he declared before grabbing his jacket and heading toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Melissa called after him. “It’s the middle of the day. He’s probably at work.” 

“I don’t care. It’s worth a shot, and it’s infinitely better than sitting around and waiting.” 

Of course, Stiles knew exactly which house Melissa was referring to. He’d run by it at least three times a week back in his lacrosse days, and was always jealous of the people who lived there. It was only about a ten min drive from his dad’s house, but the way Stiles was driving, he made it there in four. His heart securely lodged itself in his throat as he pulled up the long driveway and saw three cars out front, each one nicer than the next. Their paint jobs _alone_ probably cost more than Stiles’ entire Jeep. He parked a solid ten feet away from the black Camaro on the end, not wanting to risk damaging it in any way.

On shaky, anxious, legs, he approached the house. The door swung open before he had a chance to knock. A woman with bright green eyes and dark chocolate brown hair accented with blood red streaks stood, blocking the entrance, and looked him over before a wicked smile appeared on her face.

“Follow me,” she instructed, and Stiles did, though, he didn’t know why. 

The inside of the Hale’s house was just as gorgeous as he’d always imagined, and yet, unlike most houses of its magnitude, it felt incredibly homey. Stiles could tell there was a lot of love here, and it warmed his soul. The woman led him up an extravagant staircase and down a long hall, whose walls were littered with photographs of a gorgeous family. Stiles wanted to stop and look at them, but the woman turned to address him before he could. 

“Last door on the right,” she said, pointing in the direction and shoving Stiles forward.

“Wha…?!”

“You’re here for my brother, no? He’s in there. Go on. Shoo, shoo,” she ordered, that wicked smile returning to her lips. She watched him expectantly until he reached the door and then flounced down the stairs. 

Cautiously, Stiles raised his fist and knocked twice. He heard some rustling, a few footsteps, and then the door was opening. At last, he found himself standing face to face with the man who had unwittingly captured his heart, but he wasn't even remotely prepared. He’d imagined him so many times over the last month, but his faded memory did not do him justice, and Stiles found, at the sight of him, all his faculties had completely vanished. He stood there, frozen for a moment, completely stunned. The guy didn’t say anything, just stared back at him, his arms crossed in front of his chest, one eyebrow arched high with intrigue, and clear amusement dancing in his eyes. 

Stiles, seeming to have regained control of his body, but not his brain, rushed forward and pulled him into a demanding kiss. He didn’t have time to be embarrassed or ashamed of his actions, as he was met with an immediate and eager response. Strong arms wrapped tightly around his waist and drew him in closer, leading him into the room. He barely registered the door shutting behind him, before he was shoved roughly against it. 

The man stopped kissing him and was now gazing down at him intently. Stiles wasn’t sure what emotion he was reading on his face, anger, lust, or a possible combination of the two, but whatever it was, it was ridiculously sexy.

“I.. uh…” Stiles stammered nervously. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have… that was… incredibly inappropriate of me.” 

“Long overdue,” the man supplied at the same time, in a beautiful tenor that had Stiles head spinning. 

“What?” Stiles squeaked, certain he’s misheard.

“I've wanted to do that… since the night… of your dad’s wedding,” he explained as he left a trail of kisses down the column of Stiles’ neck. He tore himself away so he could look into Stiles’ eyes. “I was called out of town on urgent business, and just got back yesterday.” 

“Oh,” Stiles supplied in a dazed response. 

“I was going to come find you, Stiles, but you beat me to it.” 

“I… I don’t even know your name,” he blurted out. “But you know mine? How do you know my name?”

“You introduced yourself before your toast.” 

“I did?” 

“You don’t remember?” he questioned with a hit of concern.

“To be honest, the majority of my time on that stage I was kind of in a daze of… well you. I’m surprised I even made it through the toast. Wait! Hold on. We are getting off subject. You know my name, it’s only fair I know yours.” 

“Derek.” 

“Derek,” Stiles mimicked. “That’s so much nicer than ‘Beard guy with the dazzling smile and gorgeous eyes.’ I like it.” 

“Yeah?” Derek laughed, and oh boy, was that music to Stiles’ ears. 

“Definitely,” Stiles breathed.

Derek studied his eyes for a moment, as if searching for something important. He must have liked what he found, because he brought his hand up, gently placed it at the base of Stiles’ neck, and led him into another, more intent kiss. 

If Stiles had his way, they were never going to stop .

**Author's Note:**

> As always, every kudos and every comment is greatly appreciated. They give me life (even the negative ones)! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!


End file.
